Scared Of The Dark
by condesce
Summary: The imagination often plays tricks on you when you're scared. / Colony!America and England; brotherly fic.


Alfred couldn't sleep. He lay in his bed and looked at the ceiling as he tried to ignore the darkness around him. The black nothingness felt heavy, as though it were pushing down on him and constricting him. His mind started to play tricks on him. Every creak sounded ten times louder. He whimpered a little and slowly rolled on to his side.

The moonlight slipped through the tiny gap between the curtains, casting a silver line across the middle of the room. Alfred wished he could gather the courage to get out of bed to open the curtains. At least the moon would light up the room a little. That way he would feel a little better. He hated the dark. The dark hid all the nasty things that lurked in the corners of his room, like ghosts.

He closed his eyes tightly and wrapped the duvet tighter around himself. He wished he had the courage to get out of bed and go to Arthur's room. Arthur would keep the nightmares away. He would make sure the ghosts wouldn't hurt him.

He opened his eyes again and looked into the darkness. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, "A-Arthur..." he whispered. He hoped that his guardian would hear him, but he knew it would be hopeless. Obviously whispering wouldn't work.

He whimpered quietly again and he curled up. He fought back the tears that threatened to fall and he buried his face in the pillow. He took a breath and decided that on the count of three he would jump up, run out the room and to Arthur's. He would be safe then, wouldn't he?

Okay, so... on the count of three. One... two... three!

Alfred didn't move; he remained frozen to the spot and staring ahead. He closed his eyes in frustration. Why couldn't he run? They couldn't catch him if he ran fast enough, right?

He would try again. One... two... three!

There he was, still lying in the same spot as he was in three seconds ago. He buried his face in the pillow again and clutched on to it tightly. He tried not to cry.

_You can do it..._ he thought to himself as he looked up again. He took a shaky breath and tried to gather his courage.

Alfred slowly sat up and glanced around the room. He could feel their eyes on him, watching his every move. He could sense them grinning at him. His fear was what kept them entertained. He could feel them waiting to pounce. They were waiting for him to turn his back, and then they would strike. He just knew it. He knew they would get him the moment he let his guard down.

But he had to get to Arthur. He had to get to Arthur and Arthur would look after him. The ghosts didn't like Arthur because he wasn't scared of them. He kept them away and that was why Alfred had to get to him.

He plucked up the courage to get up from his bed. He placed his small feet on the ground and floorboards creaked which made him jump. He felt them walking closer. He could almost see their blurred figures in the darkness. He started to tremble but he knew there was no going back now.

On the count of three...

One... two... three!

Alfred ran. He wrenched the door opened and he ran down the hall. The hall seemed to stretch forever, as though it were never ending. He could sense them chasing him and he knew he had to get to Arthur's room. If he didn't, they would catch him and then... he didn't want to know.

Arthur's door was in his line of sight and he reached out to grab hold of the handle. He opened it quickly and stepped inside then closed it behind him. He glanced ahead and saw Arthur's bed ahead and he let out a small sigh of relief. He felt the tears fill his eyes again and he walked towards the bed.

Arthur seemed to already know he was there because when Alfred was half way to his bed he sat up. Alfred saw his silhouette and the tears finally slipped down his cheeks and he reached out to his guardian with a small whimper.

Arthur reached down and the small boy grabbed onto his hand and held on tightly. Arthur let him cling for a moment before moving his hand out of his grip and leaning down a little more so he could scoop the young colony into his arms and set him on his lap. Arthur's room was lit up more than Alfred's so immediately the little one felt comfortable.

"What's the matter?" Arthur asked as he hugged his little colony close and gently wiped away his tears. Alfred clutched onto Arthur's nightshirt and sniffled weakly.

"I'm scared..." he said shakily and continued to cling. Arthur gently ran his fingers through the colony's hair in a comforting manner and smiled a little.

"Of what?"

"The dark. 'Cause the dark hides the ghosts and then I can't see them," Alfred said and looked up at his guardian with big, teary eyes. Arthur nodded in understanding and gently continued to stroke the younger nation's hair.

"I see. Well you have nothing to worry about because you're safe now."

"The ghosts don't like you, do they Arthur? They don't like you 'cause you're not scared of them," Alfred said and snuggled into the older man's chest.

"No, they don't," Arthur said. He had said many times to his colony that ghosts are not real but no matter how many times he had said it, the boy would always cry and tremble and say that they were watching him and smiling at him.

"A-and they like me because I'm scared of them... and I make them happy 'cause I'm scared of them..." he rambled.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't be afraid anymore. Then they will go away," Arthur said and adjusted the small boy on his lap. Alfred nodded and rubbed at his eyes. It was late and he was starting to finally feel tired.

"You should sleep," Arthur smiled and moved Alfred off his lap. The boy seemed hesitant to be moved but when he was placed beside his guardian he smiled a little.

Arthur always made him feel safe, no matter what. The older man lay beside him and wrapped one arm around him. Alfred snuggled up to him with small yawn.

"Goodnight Alfred," Arthur said. He let his fingers linger in the boy's hair for a moment longer before he moved his arm around him again and held him in a tight, protective embrace.

"Night Arthur..." he mumbled as he clutched on to his guardian. He closed his eyes with a small smile.

Arthur always looked after him, no matter how scared he was. Alfred fell asleep with the thought that perhaps one day he could be Arthur's hero and look after him too.

* * *

><p>AN: The imagination often plays tricks on you when you're afraid, and I guess that's what inspired me with this short fic. The ghosts Alfred sees are just his imagination going into overdrive, but when you're that young how can you tell if it's real or not? :)


End file.
